Heroes Never Die, But Neither Do Mercenaries
by Libbleslie
Summary: who really runs the world? Exactly how far back does a plot from the future extend into the past?
1. Woman in green

Of course I own neither tf2 or overwatch

* * *

The darkness of the room cast a shadow upon the figure sitting at the desk, watching footage from a holovid approvingly. "Finally, its ready." She leaned back in her chair. "Is unit 09 still tailing the targets?"

"Affirmative, Ma'am." Came the reply from behind her chair.

"Good. Dismissed, unit B."  
"Yes ma'am."

Fairly loud, jittery footsteps announced the departure of her assistant, ending with the soft click of the door.

She pulled open a small drawer, almost invisible if one were not looking for it. From within she pulled a small wooden frame holding an old polaroid. An archaic photograph by now.  
A light finger traced along the face of the smiling figure in the picture. "Finally, after all these years, I'll take back what was stolen from me. I'll rewrite the wrongs that happened so long ago."  
with carefulness the frame was set back into the drawer, and the drawer shut again with a soft click.

A prim, olive painted nail tapped upon one of the buttons on the desks surface.  
"Unit P, ready a shuttle. It's time I do some on the spot hiring."  
"Yes Ma'am."  
"And prep units 01 through 08 for departure as well. They'll be going with me to meet our future employees and retrieve unit 09."  
"Affirmative."

* * *

The alley was dark, illuminated only by the street lamps of the road, robotic eyes, and smouldering wisps of hair.

He didn't know who this woman was, or how she'd tracked them down when even the authorities had lost their trail days ago. What he did know, Is that he didn't like the feeling of this.

The woman was almost childlike in appearance. Very short, raven hair cut into a short bob framing a round face with a large green ribbon poking out from behind her head, with large amber eyes. He could probably drop kick her the length of the alley. His large friend behind him, even further. It was the eyes that gave her away as much older than her body belied.  
She herself looked harmless enough. But the sight of the eight machines that flanked her made his eyes narrow and his muscles tense.  
They looked like omnics, but there was no sense of life behind the glowing lenses they had for eyes.  
They'd clearly been kept in repair, outfitting with more modern tech her and there, but it didn't take a scientist to tell you that they were old. Very old.

The woman waved a hand, and at her wave all of the robots moved back with little hesitation, save for the only one with a wheel in place of legs, which merely kept the strange device in its hands pointed at her until she gave reached over and gave it a small smack.  
It turned on its wheel, coat tails fluttering with its jittery movements as it made to join its fellows a few feet behind the woman.

"I apologize. I've heard of your aversion to omnics. They are far too stupid to be omnics, but surely in your eyes they must all fall into the same category. I would not have brought them, but they are an old womans only companions."

"No offense, sheila, but ya don't exactly look like me gran." _Did he have a gran? He thought he might've, at least at one point in his life. Probably before the omnic attack all those years ago, he assumed. there was no face or voice to remember, but he knew if he did have one, she wouldn't look like the woman before him._  
"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Whaddya want, sheila?" He snapped.  
"I'm assembling a team, for a personal project. And I believe it would be in my best interest to hire more than just people from Talon. And a pair of freelancers like yourselves is just what I'm looking for. I have heard of you and your companion, Mr Fawkes." From her coat she produced a folder, holding it out for him to take. "These are the files about the mission. They contain information on several men I want dead." He snatched the folder from her hand and snapped it open.

He opened the folder, giving the contents a cursory glance before snapping it shut again. "Sorry, can't help ya."  
"Why not?" She demanded. "I'll be paying you well."  
"Yeah, but it don't do much good when the blokes you want dead are already in their graves!" He cried. "This infos from the bloody nineteen sixties! Is this some kinda joke? Because it ain't funny." He turned, nudging his lager companion. "C'mon roadie this ain't worht our time."

"Have you ever heard of Australium, Mr Fawkes?"

The questioned stopped him in his tracks. He slowly turned to face the woman. "Where'd ya hear that name? Not even many junkers know bout that old myth anymore."  
"Many years ago. From who doesn't matter right now. What do you know about the substance?"  
"I know that it aint real," He sneered. "Otherwise Oz wouldn't have gotten blown to shit."  
"Oh, its very real, Mr Fawkes. That's part of the contract I'm offering you. To bring me any Australium you find, or the information on the location of even an ounce of it."  
"Listen, it's a nice offer, really it is. But the only time I'm ever going to lay me eyes on that stuff is in me dreams. And those men you want killed? Same thing. S'not like we can travel to the sixties. Those men 'ave been dead for almost a century."  
"Oh but Mr Fawkes, I can send you there. All you have to do is sign the contract, and I can make it possible. Wouldn't you like to cause some mayhem? Perhaps see what Australia was like before it was raveged by the omnics?"  
"Look, I only got one leg, 'n I don't like having it pulled."  
"Everything you need to know is in those files. Five million dollars upfront, you'll get the rest when the job is done."

He looked to over his shoulder up at his friend, who merely shrugged in response.

"You know you can't return to Australia now, they won't let you back in. I'm offering you, even if it is temporary, a purpose. Do this for me, and you'll have more power than the queen herself."

"I'll give you boys some time to think on it. Keep the files, but do not let them out of your sight. I will be in touch." She turned, heels clicking as she walked away. "There is an address and time in the file. One of my assistants will be there. Agree to sign or not, do be punctual."

She stopped in front of line of robots, and snapped her fingers. "Come along, 09. Time to go home.".

There was the faint sound behind them, and from behind them slipped another robot, a thin one almost looking as if it were wearing a permanent suit. He watched, jaw slightly agape at the retreating forms of the robots as the woman took lead.

"Once were out of sight, tail them again. You know what to do should they stray from the correct course of action."  
"But of course."

She hummed as they rounded the corner, and unit 09 vanished again from sight. She'd meant to take him back with her, but the indicision and mistrust in the junkers eyes told her that he would need time, need baiting, before he would agree.

Ah well. It would give her more time to fine tune the plans. She'd waited over a century so far, she could wait another week more.

Now would come the task of catching Talons attention. The trap was set, now just to bring them in.

* * *

"Targets on sight, Ma'am."  
"Perfect, thank you, unit P."  
"Time of arrival, thirty seconds."  
"Excellent. Dim the lights, let us greet our guests in style."  
"Yes Ma'am."  
The lights dimmed, and she turned away in her chair.

The sound of several footsteps came from the other side of the room. The screech of metal as the door was forced open and bent on its hinges.

"What is this?" the question came from a muffled voice. Deepend by a mask, but not the voice of the man whose attention she really was after.

"This," With the snap of her fingers the bots around the room sprung to life, their eyes casting eerie shadows off of each other.  
The lights slowly grew as she spun to face what were meant to be intruders. "Is a business meeting."

A tall figure in a black ensemble, face covered by a bonewhite mask, strode forward, shotgun level with her head. "What is this?" Ah, that was the voice. The voice of a man who killed death himself for his job.  
"As I said, a business meeting. I wanted your attention, and I do believe I have it now." She answered, leaning back in her chair. "Please, keep pointing your guns at me if it makes you feel better, but I do believe you're going to want to hear what I have to say. I've got a proposition for you. For Talon, really. I would very much like to setup a meeting with the council." She slid a holopicture across the desk. "I believe you know what that is. "She smiled as he snatched the picture off the desk, only his gun leaving her head, dozens of tiny red dots litering her features.

"Where did you get this."

"That would be a company secret. But perhaps I would be willing to divulge the information to the right business partners." She drummed her fingers against the surface of the metal desk. "So, Reaper, was it? Will you take me to your leaders?"

* * *

Sorry its pretty short but I'm in a bit of a rush to get this on so I probably will be going back to tweak this


	2. Going In With A Bang

Of course I don't own tf2 or overwatch

* * *

She stood, flanked by two masked men pointing guns at her as she spoke. The guns and dangerous collective of individuals present, be they in person or the few on the holo screens seemed to do nothing to unnerve her. Her posture was strong and confident, voice calm, and perhaps could even be called smug. As if she was absolutely confident that _she_ was running this meeting.

She was careful, calculating with the information she gave away.  
She knew she had things they wanted, and she ensured they knew that it would die with her, if things should turn sour between them.

When she was through, the guards backed away, unease radiating from them as the largest man in the room stood. He wore an expensive suit, surely hand tailored to fit his unique physique. The only thing that stood out from the business man façade was the painted strips on his face. A powerplay, no doubt. At his approach the woman only smiled, button nose crinkling with the action. His height over her nearly comical.

"I believe," Said the man. "That I speak on behalf of the council when I say that we have a deal."  
He extended his hand to her. How many lives had fallen to that very hand? She didn't very much care.

She shook his hand. "I believe this will be the start of a very beneficial partnership."

* * *

Three shoes and a metal leg left tracks in the sand as they slowly made their way through the old Egyptian ruins.

"I don't like it, roadie. All these bots everywhere." Grumbled Junkrat, scowling at one of the passing robots, and sticking his tongue out at the one that was leading them through the mess of ruins.  
He shook his head and gave a skip, a large smile on his. "But just think! There ain't no scrapheaps like them in the sixties! Y'know I'm glad ya talked me into it. I think this this'll be a great thing for the two of ya. Build our own empire 'fore anyone else gets their chance."

They paid no mind to the old wooden pallets laden with large bricks never placed as they passed. The breeze stirred up the topmost layer of sand, and the barbed wire fence near them swayed slightly.

His peg leg echoed off the ancient stone as they were led up a small flight of stairs and down again.  
Before them was a strange looking circle in the ground. Red light softly emanated from the disk set into the middle of it.

They came to a metal gate guarded by two more robots. They seemed to share a look from under their helmets before nodding, and pulling the gate open. They drew closer together as they approached the half opened door. Roadhog gripped the underside of the door with one hand and hefted in open with ease.

In the center of the chamber was what appeared to be a plane of some sort, with all manner of wires and tubes connecting it to a large pod on one side and some sort of computer setup on the other, manned by three of the bots with dull yellow hats.

The woman was there, two much more unique looking backs at her side. "Ah boys, welcome. I must say you took your time. I thought you might be much more eager. I believe this means we've come to an agreement, I hope?"  
"We'll do it."

She smiled, and snapped her fingers. The male looking robot jumped, and handed her the briefcase it had been holding. She held it out, and flicked it open, revealing it to be full of cash. "The money, as promised. Like I said before, you'll receive the rest upon your return." She clicked the case closed, and let Junkrat snatch it from her hands.

"I trust you have the papers I entrusted you with."  
"I-uh…." With a sigh roadhog shoved his companion aside, producing the folder they had been given.

She took the folder and handed it to the female looking robot. "Very good. Lets get started then, shall we?"  
"Whatever gets us away from all these bots the quickest is fine by me, sheila."  
"And away from the robots you shall be, Mr Fawkes. All the two of you need to do is step into that chamber, and you won't see any more robots until you return." She nodded towards the pod. "I'll take care of the rest." She pulled another small folder from her coat, and handed it to Roadhog. "This contains all of the information you need to know. Your targets should be at the first facility mentioned. And you'll find supplies inside."

They approached the pod, and one of the robots at the command console pressed a button, causing a section of it to recede. "You are clear to enter." A grating voice came from one of the robots.

Junkrat scowled, but with the squaring of his shoulders he stepped in, followed closely by his large companion. The section closed, trapping them into the surprisingly roomy chamber. True to her word there were a handful of small crates each with a few bundles of dynamite within.

"Here we go, Hoggie ol pal." Junkrat tucked the briefcase under his arm, rubbing his hands together.  
"Don't do anything stupid."  
"Don't worry bout me."

Junkrat jumped as the pod rattled and the lights began to flash erratically. The light became blinding, obscuring everything in bright white as the world felt as if it were spinning and twisting inside out.

* * *

When the light died and the swirling sensation stopped, the door slid open with a hiss, the movement pulling a few grains of sand into the pod.

"Oooh man, I think I'm gonna chunder." He stumbled out of the pod, gagging. He looked around him as Roadhog stepped out onto the sand. "Where the hell are we?"  
"New Mexico." Rumbled Roadhog, looking inside the folder.

"Alright! Time to cause a little chaos."  
Roadhog thumped a large hand onto his head, turning his head. In the distance, half obscured by the sun gleaming off the sand were two buildings. "There."

Junkrat grinned and ducked out of Roadhogs hand, zipping forward several steps. "Oh I can't wait."

They trudged through the sand, stopping a good several yards away from the strange buildings. "Oh they're in there all right, I'm sure of it." The air was filled with highpitched giggling. "Lets go say how do ya do."

He hobbled up towards the stretch of fence down in the dry section of the streambed, and began his work.

"Eh, I check." Drawled a bored, bostonian accent. The owner of the accent leaned back In his chair, throwing on leg over the other.  
The day had been fairly quiet, the impending attack they had been expecting had yet to show.

The sky overhead was nearly cloudless overheard the small courtyard and the rag tag group of men playing cards on an old crate they had dragged out. Across the way another group of their teammates stood over a table deep in the heart of the building, planning and going over papers.

An explosion shook the ground, shaking layers of dust and chips of paint from the buildings. Windows rattled in their frames and sent a multitude of birds and raccoons scattering.

Several eyes around the crate turned to one man. He held up his hands, brown bottle still griped in one. "What? That was nae ona mine!"  
"Then what the hell was it?" Questioned the youngest, leaping from his chair, running to the wall and swiping the baseball bat leaning against it. The rest of the group followed, cards were thrown carelessly on the table and weapons were claimed as they hurried up the closest staircase to the battlements or the closest room that led out of the base.

Across the stream, three men looked up from their map and papers, faces grim. "So it begins." Said the masked one gravely.

"You sure about that? The administrator usually gives a warnin'." Questioned the one in the construction gear. "Aint like her to not say anything."

"What else would it be?" Shrugged the one in the coat as he donned the large pack that had been sitting propped against the leg of the table. "Unless the others have blown themselves up."

"What the hell is that?" The wooden bat scrapped along the wooden floor of the battlements as they gazed out at the scene before them.

The entire length of one of the fences had been blown over, twisted off hinges and scorched. The water level between the two buildings was unusually low, the fence that retained it having been blown to splinters. Standing atop the twisted remains of the chainlink fence was a very odd figure, half dressed and covered in grime, bright blond hair and metal peg leg gleaming in the sun. Behind him, coming up and around was an equally strange figure. Giant and masked, stomach reaching out and over the edge of his trousers.

"Ladies and gents, behold your destruction for it comes at the hands of Junkrat and Roadhog!" Bellowed the blond. He lifted a strange looking contraption, and with a manic laugh several spheres launched from it, bouncing wildly.

"Bloody bombs!" Cried the scotsman, leaping away from the little ball that landed dangerously close to him. It exploded, leaving a crater in its wake.

"Scout, think you can get close to him?" Asked the man with the rifle, his word nearly lost over the sound of the explosions and the crazed laughter of the bomber. You distract em and I'll put bullets in em."  
"Course I can. Easy." With little running start the scout leapt, soaring across the gap between the battlements and the roof over the bridge.

A giant hook ensnared his waist, and with a scream he was pulled from the air. A nasty looking weapon was aimed at him.  
The trigger on the weapon was pulled, and in a bloody heap scout fell from the grasp of the hook.

The hook was thrown again, but its intended target ducked around a wall made of sheets of metal, the only sign of him was his rifle peeking out from his shelter.

"That's quite enough." Said a voice being Junkrat and cold metal was pressed to his head. "Drop your weapons or end up like the man your large friend just murdered."  
With a pout and a "Hmph." Junkrat dropped the launcher in his hands, and emptied his pockets of his trap and his mines.  
The whir of a minigun prompted the other man to do the same, setting down his hook and odd looking gun with much more care than his cohort.

"I believe we have much to discuss." Said the man in the mask, voice as cold as his gun.

* * *

"The trip appears to have been succsesful ma'am." Said one of the robots at the moniters.  
The woman nodded in approval. "Very good. Prepare the next chamber and set the arrival time for forty eight hours later."  
"Yes Ma'am."


End file.
